


'Da Drabble Bin

by Ravvi



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drabbles, Other, See chapter summaries for warnings/pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravvi/pseuds/Ravvi
Summary: All the one-shots that end up being too short to really need a full A03 post.  Each chapter is a separate drabble, and if it's got NSFW in the title, expect explicit, detailed, and occasionally fetishised depictions of sexual acts.  Warnings are listed at the head of every chapter, stay safe  ^_^





	1. Like Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t seen many fics exploring the implied friendship between Sans and Alphys, and nothing fixes that better than angst, lol. This would take place shortly before Frisk fell into the Underground, after the creation of the Amalgamates.
> 
> Warnings include detailed depictions of depression, self-deprecation, and suicidal ideation.

It didn’t actually look that deep.

Water flowed quietly over the edge of the rocks, forming a thin, shimmering curtain that was quickly lost to the gloom of the immense cavern below.  According to one of the legends, the hole was literally endless, and anything that fell into it became lost for all time.  Alphys knew that it couldn’t _actually_ be endless.  Eventually the water must find some forgotten pool to collect itself in.  There was no such thing as a bottomless hole.

So she wouldn’t fall forever.  Eventually, there would be an end.

But it was still strange to wonder what it would be like if there was no bottom to hit.  Nothing but infinite, inky darkness and the cool veil of water pouring down around her from impossibly far above.  It would feel like flying, on and on, and on.  Nobody to hurt, nobody to disappoint.  Just darkness and weightlessness from now until the end of time.

“She’d miss you.”

Alphys jumped, flailing backward so hard she tripped over her own tail and landed hard on her backside with a heavy splash.

“S-s-s-ans?!” she gasped, holding her chest.

“Undyne, I mean. Nobody to hang out and watch goofy cartoons with,” Sans continued, idly kicking his feet where he sat, poised on the edge of the waterfall.  “Asgore too. _Where is my favorite royal scientist?  It has been three hours and I haven’t made anyone a cup of tea._ ”

Alphys laughed a little at the impression, but the sound was hollow.

“I-I’d just make them unhappy.  T-they’re better off without me,” she said softly, staring into at the water swirling around her legs.  It rippled around the hem of her lab coat, making the white fabric look like it was melting.

Sans snorted.  “You don’t make me unhappy.  Nobody’s perfect, but you know what?” He looked up, eyes somehow sad over the eternal grin.  “You still got people who want to have you around.”

Alphys gave him a watery smile.  “T-thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”

Sans gave her a look. “Ah, come on.  I ain’t got much of a serious face, but I’m doing my best here. I mean…”  He sighed, looked down into the abyss for a very long moment, then shook his head with a wry chuckle.  “Undyne and Papyrus are having a dinner party tonight, and Paps is dragging me along.  I’d REALLY like to have some backup in case they start a kitchen fire again.”  He looked at her hopefully.  “You in?”

Alphys didn’t want to go anywhere.  She didn’t really want to do anything.  Not when it would be so much easier to just…

Not.

“S-sorry, I c-can’t,” she mumbled, standing and wringing out the hem of her lab coat.  “I-I-I have t-t-t-to go.”

“Hey, no problem,” Sans shrugged, staring down into the void with an empty expression.  An unrecognizable bit of trash slipped through the water beside him, caught for a moment against his jacket, then dropped over the edge and was silently swallowed up by the darkness below.  “See ‘ya round.”

Alphys nodded, then hurried away, back into the main part of the junk-yard.  When she paused to glance back at the edge of the waterfall, Sans was already gone.


	2. Swapfell Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven’t gotten much of a chance to play with Swapfell yet. Just a random idea about Black (Swapfell Sans) getting heckled that turned out pretty well ^_^
> 
> Also, heckling the Terrible Sans is a really bad idea.
> 
> Warnings include attempted non-con.

“What’s the matter, afraid to get… _wet_?”

Black closed his eyes and took a deep breath, careful not to break his step as he continued along the path through Waterfall.  He often had to endure stupid cat-calls and lewd offers while making his way along this particular road, but today was especially bad.

“C’mon sweet thing, I know you’re into kinky shit.  Why don’t you come show me some BDSM?”  the Aaron asked, voice a bit slurred and heavy with lust.  Black wrinkled his face in disdain.  A drunk opponent was one that was already half beaten, and therefore unworthy of his time.

“Stop following me.” he said dismissively as the other monster began slithering along the path behind him.

“Awww, so shy.  Want me to tie you up and spank you like the cute little bitch you are?”

“Leave me alone,” he replied shortly.

“I know you want it.”

Black felt a hand grab his arm.  Immediately, he whirled, turning the imbecile’s soul blue and slamming him into the ground before his eyes could so much as widen.

“You want to know about BDSM, motherfucker?” Black asked, voice dangerously calm.  The Aaron wheezed on the ground, one hand pressed to his soul and both eyes fixed on Black with open shock.

 “First lesson.”  Black pulled the Aaron to his knees with blue magic, extinguishing his eyelights as he stared into the other monsters eyes.  The smug idiot’s expression twisted into a delicious, raw terror and Black grinned, enraged glee sending his magic pulsing through his temples and across his pelvic girdle with a rush of intoxicating heat.

“No…means…no,” Black whispered, then flicked his wrist.  The Aaron shrieked as he was thrown across the cavern, sound cutting short with a loud splash as he fell into a pool of water.  Scowling, Black turned, striding quickly down the path.  Captain Alphys would not be happy if he was late again, and now he was going to have to go through training with distractingly damp shorts.


	3. Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contest entry for aryisgoingaway fontcest contest. Intentionally left platonic/not platonic vague, add your own context as you please ^_^

“BROTHER??”

Sans jolted upright with a sharp gasp as the door to his bedroom was slammed open.

“Pap?  What’s the big- WHOA!”  Sans yelped, flailing inelegantly as his brother picked him up, threw him over his shoulder, and sprinted downstairs.

“Wh-here are we go-hing?” Sans gasped, voice bouncing with each of his brother’s enthusiastic steps.

“IT IS A SURPRISE WHICH I SHALL NOT SPOIL NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU ASK ME!” Papyrus declared, throwing open the front door and charging down the road.  Sans squinted through the blinding sunlight, torn between holding on for dear life and shading his eyesockets as Papyrus continued to run.  “BUT IT IS GOING TO START SOON, SO WE MUST HURRY!”

“Start soon?” Sans wheezed, curling his fingers into his brother’s shirt to ease the weight off his chest.  “You mean like a movie or something?”

“OR SOMETHING!” Papyrus cheerfully agreed, sprinting tirelessly past the edge of town.  Waist-high grass whipped past, dotted with daisies, asters and sprays of red columbines.  Springtime in the mountains was always pretty.  It was one of the reasons Paps had decided to settle here, instead of moving into the rapidly growing monster city.  Sans honestly didn’t have much of a preference.  One place was much like another, and he’d stopped caring about things like his living accommodations a long time ago.  It was just easier to not sweat the small stuff, and in the end, it was all small stuff.

“HERE WE ARE!” Papyrus announced triumphantly, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of an open field.  Sans grunted as he was swung onto a faded quilt laid over the grass, looking around with calm bemusement.  Pine trees, grass, the occasional flower…nothing around him looked like something that was going to start soon, or indeed, had started at all.

“Did we miss it?” Sans asked with an easy grin, crossing his legs and looking up at his brother. 

Papyrus sprawled onto the quilt beside him and handed him a pair of odd, square glasses in cardboard frames.  “I think we missed the first part,” he said apologetically, tone dropping to a more normal level as he squinted through the glasses at the sun.  “Can you see it?”

“See what?” Sans asked, looking down at the glasses, then mimicking his brother and looking at the sun through them.  “I don’t…”

Ohhh….

Oh, that was _cool._

The lower edge of the sun had a sliver of black across it, like a coin with a tiny bite out of the side.  A solar eclipse?  A partial one?  Sans had read about these but never…

“Oh dear…” Papyrus grumbled, shifting fretfully on the blanket.  “I’m sorry, Sans.  I thought it was going to be more exciting…”

Sans turned and gleefully hugged him around the middle.  “This is so cool!  I didn’t know these even actually happened!” he beamed, pressing the glasses over his eyesockets as he stared at the sliver of missing sun.  “I wonder if you can see it better through a telescope, maybe Alphys has one we could try…”

Papyrus sat back, grinning as Sans continued to chatter excitedly about eclipse.  It was such a small thing.  This far north, you couldn’t even see anything happening without special glasses!  But still…

Sans beamed into the sunlight, more alive and animated than Papyrus had seen him look for weeks.  It was so easy for his brother to slip from his care-free attitude into apathy and dullness, living every day like the last in a loop without an end.  He didn’t seem bothered by anything, but he never seemed excited either, or even particularly happy.  The things he cared about were so small, like the tiny shadow on the sun that Papyrus couldn’t see with his bare eyes.

But those were the things that broke the loop and brought his brother out into the sun, which meant that they weren't such small things after all.  Just hard to see unless you were really looking.


	4. A Hint of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *slaps hand* NUU! I’M ALREADY DOING LAMIAS, I CAN’T ADD MERMAIDS-
> 
> Inspiration image here:  
> http://symphysins.tumblr.com/post/163486804891/fishy-houseguest-continuation-of-this

Papyrus shut off the spigot, then turned to the little merperson sitting wide-eyed on a chair beside the tub.

“Here you are Sans!  Now we can keep you from drying out while you are on land!” Papyrus declared, looking pleased with himself for thinking up such a clever solution. 

Sans hummed a three note melody that sounded like praise, and Papyrus beamed.  “Why of course I am!  And you are lucky to have been rescued by someone so great as me!” 

The little merperson cooed back, and Papyrus blushed, waving a hand with mock-modesty.  “Flattery will get you nowhere, my forward houseguest!  Now, let’s get you in.”

Gently, he scooped his visitor up in a bridal carry and set him down in the cool water.  

“Mmmmm,” the little merperson sighed, slumping down until his face was completely covered.  He shot upright a second later with a sharp cough, clutching the bones of his neck with a pained expression.

“OH NO!!  WHAT’S WRONG, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?!” Papyrus screeched, feeling awful as the little merperson slowly caught their breath.  Sans sang three notes that sounded a little hoarse, but seemed to indicate that he was fine.  

“Are you sure?  I don’t…” Papyrus trailed off as Sans made an odd motion over the water, like he was shaking a bottle over a plate of food.

“Are you hungry?”  Papyrus asked with confusion.  Sans shook his head, touched his throat with one hand, then made the shaking motion again and pointed to the water.

“You can’t breathe-” Papyrus’ eyes lit up as he realized the answer.  “Oh, how STUPID OF ME, just a moment, I’ll be right back!”

There was a loud crash from the other room, followed by several muffled curses as Papyrus presumably dug something large out of an unused closet and returned.

“I got you out of the _ocean_ , of _course_ you’d breathe salt water!” he beamed, a large bag clutched between his hands.  Sans grinned broadly, clapping his hands as Papyrus opened the bag and began to pour salt into the tub.


	5. Well-Heeled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiceyhoney drabble. I was thinking about turning it into something longer, but the idea just wasn’t coming together. Basic concept was that Stretch got roped into doing a last-minute magic act with Edge where the grand finale was for Edge to ‘magically’ clone himself.
> 
> No real warnings. Stretch abuses a poor, defenseless pair of high-heeled boots? Much cuteness and fluff…

“Try it again,” came the exasperated reply.

Stretch sighed under his breath and pushed away from the wall, balancing precariously on a pair of platform heels that easily added three inches to his normal height.  “Hate to break it to you Edgelord, but I’m not gonna magically learn how to walk in these in less than an hour.”

“Not with that attitude you won’t,” Edge snapped, drumming the fingers of his left hand on his crossed arms. “Again.”

Stretch sighed heavily, then clenched his teeth and tottered across the room.

“Tuck in your ass and take lighter steps!” Edge nagged him for the thousandth time, giving the offending body part a light smack.  “Delicately, Ash-trash, these are designer shoes, not your disgusting sandals!”

“Maybe if you’d stop distracting me,” Stretch grumbled, holding out his elbows for balance.

“Then do it RIGHT!” Edge groused, firmly pushing his elbows back down.

“I’m _trying!_ ” Stretch half-snickered, unable to keep his expression neutral despite Edge’s exasperation.  God, he had to look absolutely hilarious, like a chicken trying to walk on stilts.  “I got halfway across without falling, doesn’t thAAAH-“

Stretch’s sore ankles gave out and dumped him sideways.  Edge quickly moved to brace him, giving him an arm to hang onto as he regained his footing.

“Ow,” Stretch giggled, carefully lifting each foot and shaking out his ankles.  “Edge, I know you’re set on this, but can’t you do that trick without me having to walk?  Maybe I could just, like, stand next to you and wave my arms?”

An hour ago, the answer would have been an emphatic NO.  But with showtime in less than half an hour and Stretch’s high-heel walk looking, if even possible, worse than when he’d started, Edge actually took a moment to consider.

“No, you still have to walk off-stage with me,” he finally sighed, then held up a finger right as Stretch was about to interrupt.  “But I suppose we could exit arm-in-arm and you could,” he swallowed hard as though the idea nauseated him “…use me for balance.”

“Works for me,” Stretch groaned, flopping onto his backside with a relieved sigh.  “God, my legs are _killing_ me.”

“Don’t you _dare_ take them off,” Edge growled as Stretch moved to start undoing the silver buckles.  “The only reason I’m making this concession is because YOU need to get into makeup and costume.  Now up!”

“As long as I get to sit for most of it,” Stretch sighed, climbing to his feet with a weary sigh.


	6. NSFW Fellcest Heat Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Being stupidly horny can make you lose your appetite_
> 
> I’m such a sucker for heat troupes…
> 
> Warnings include Fellcest, monster heats, and the usual Fell, borderline abusive banter and self-deprecation.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT HUNGRY?!”

The enraged demand literally shook the the door to Sans’ room in its hinges.  Sans tugged his hood over his head, trying to block out the sound as a surge of heat swept gleefully through his pelvis.

“Fuck off!” Sans shouted back, trembling as several voices in his head LOUDLY demanded that he strip off his clothes, open the door, and throw himself into his brother’s arms.

“I SPENT THREE HOURS SLAVING OVER A HOT STOVE, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS COME.  FUCKING.  **TRY IT**!!”

Somehow, Sans’ door withstood the intensity of those last two syllables, but it must have been a near thing. 

“I told you, I’m NOT HUNGRY.”  Sans yelled, then dropped to his knees with a groan as a surge of scarlet fluid dribbled down the insides of his legs.  Fuck, he was going to have to start jacking off soon.  If this heat made him much more sensitive, it was going to hurt when he finally-”

 **“IT’S NOT A FUCKING OPTION!”** Papyrus screeched, slamming the door open so hard the handle knocked a hole in the plaster behind it.  “So you can GET YOUR ASS DOWNSTAIRS OR-”

Papyrus froze as the smell washed over him.  Bitter, sharp and musky.  A little like Sans’ bottles of revolting mustard, but most of it was a scent that he hadn’t even realized was unique to his brother.  It reminded him of crushed rock, but it was…very hard to focus…on much of anything…

“You should have told me that you were in heat, runt,” Papyrus purred, voice dangerously low as he closed the door behind himself and knelt down in front of the little skeleton.  Sans looked up, expression tight with suppressed desperation and anger.

“I d-don’t have to f-fucking tell you everything,” Sans groaned, both hands pressed miserably to his throbbing pelvis.  He wanted to hide, and _fuck_ he needed to start working on this heat.  His brother shouldn’t have to see him like this.  Weak, disgusting and such a goddamn _liability-_

 _“_ Yes you do.  God damn it Sans, I spent hours on dinner, and now I’m far too horny to eat,” Papyrus growled, eyelights fuzzing around the edges as the smell of Sans’ heat swirled around his head and sent intoxicating tingles running across his ribs and down his spine.  “And it’s all your fault…”

He leaned in and tilted Sans’ sweaty, trembling face upward and kissed him deeply, running his tongue across the other’s mouth as though savouring the taste.

“And now, I think you should make up for it,” he purred, tugging Sans’ jacket off his unresisting body.

“Y-you don’t…I mean-” Sans inhaled sharply as Papyrus’ phalanges stroked along the spaces between his ribs, almost completely losing himself in the warm, tingling sensation of having another monster touch his body.  “N-no, don’t.  I’m n-not…I’m s-so weak and disgusting…”

“Oh?” Papyrus murmured, leaning close to press a kiss against the vertebrae under Sans’ jaw.  “I sense no weakness here…”

“Haahhhhh,” Sans moaned as his brother’s tongue wrapped around the space between his vertebrae, running softly over the ridges that were normally never touched.

“And I am not disgusted.”

Sans was unable to reply as Papyrus mercilessly continued to tease his last shreds of resistance apart.


	7. Keep Dinner Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This is smut. 100%, unadulterated porn. This is why the drabble bin has an E rating. You have been warned.**
> 
> Hnnghhh...I probably shouldn’t have, but I DID. Mostly because heat fics are friggin awesome, UGH, what is it about this troupe that’s so damn sexy??
> 
> This is a continuation of my Fellcest Drabble (previous chapter), but it’s semi-stand-alone if you don’t feel like reading the first one.
> 
> Warnings Include Fellcest/sibling incest, monster heats, mild genital injuries, Sans being mildly self-destructive, rough sex, penetrative sex, ecto-genetalia, begging/enthusiastic consent, referenced rape/exhibitionism, and light bondage/BDSM

It wasn’t something that was considered normal, even in the context of all the hate, distrust, and fear that permeated Underfell.  Siblings were meant to kill their weaker family members and strengthen themselves with the EXP, not keep them around and suffer their existence.  Certainly not coddle or support them.

And certainly not this.

The problem was that monsters weren’t made for isolation, and that was never more obvious than when Sans went into heat.  Thankfully, the little skeleton frequently skipped his annual cycle, but when he somehow managed to hit on the right combination of sleep, nutrition, and stars knew what else to convince his body it was safe enough to give reproduction a try, it was fucking dangerous.  

Papyrus hated to think what would happen if his brother wandered out of the house and began begging random monsters for help, the way he’d seen other heat-desperate monsters do.  If his brother was lucky, then he would just wake up the next morning covered in bites and bruises, with hundreds of lewd pictures waiting for him on the Undernet.  Probably a few STD’s as well.  

If he wasn’t, then Sans would just…disappear.  There would be no body, no evidence that he’d ever existed.  Just a dirty alley where passerby felt a little more lonely and desperate while passing through, and nothing more.

Papyrus would do _anything_ to make sure that never happened.

“Now tell me, would you actually like help, or shall I tie you up to keep you from running off and getting yourself killed?” Papyrus growled in Sans’ ear, savouring the way the little skeleton shuddered as he spoke.

“H-help…please help, ple-hNNNGHHH!” Sans yelped flinching hard as Papyrus’ hand dipped below his waistband and rubbed gently along the front of his pelvis.

“Did that…did I hurt you?!” Papyrus asked, voice uncertain for a moment before his eyesockets narrowed in suspicion.  Almost roughly, he tugged Sans’ shorts off, baring the little skeleton’s pelvis and femurs. The bone was a bright, angry scarlet, and so hot to the touch that Papyrus could feel it through his gloves.  Magical flesh had coalesced over his pelvic inlet into the shape of a vulva, folds tight, swollen, and shiny with slick fluid.  Even worse, a series of tiny, dark lines had spiderwebbed the area around Sans’ hip sockets and sacrum, making the bone look mottled and unhealthy.  Places where the bone had literally baked itself until it started to crack.

“Fucking hell…how long did you let this go you self-destructive shithead?” Papyrus demanded, arousal curdling into anger and concern as he tipped his brother’s face up to meet his.

“Shtarted yesterday,” Sans slurred, eyelights unfocused and entire body trembling as he allowed himself to be inspected. “S’not that bad…”

“Not that bad?!” Papyrus snarled, running a finger along the joint where Sans’ sacrum met his spine.  Sans yelped weakly, fingers clenching around his brother’s arms as beads of slick, crimson magic beaded along the lips of his pussy.  “You can’t even stand to be touched!  Why the fuck didn’t you let me know?”

Sans whimpered softly and mumbled something at the floor.

“Louder runt, or so help me, I WILL tie you up and leave you in the goddamn shed to sweat.”

“Didn’t…want to…you shouldn’t have to take care of me, I don’t want to d-drag you down, I’m not _worth_ it.  Please I’m _sorry_ …” Overstimulated tears were flowing down the sides of Sans’ face now, mixing with the sweat to drip off of his chin.  

Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nasal aperture, fighting back irritation.  The hormones and the pain would be more than enough to make Sans emotionally fragile.  Yelling at him wasn’t going to do anything but make him cry.  Ohhhh, they would be having a talk about this later, but now...

“Stop that, you’re turning yourself into a mess,” Papyrus grumbled, wiping his brother’s face with a gloved thumb.  “I don’t take care of you because I HAVE to, imbecile.  I do it because I _want_ to. And next time, it will be MUCH easier if you come to me BEFORE you get so worked up that it hurts.  Fucking hell…”

With startling gentleness, Papyrus lifted Sans off the floor and carried into the hall making a quick stop at the bathroom to grab a towel before returning to his own, much cleaner, room.  Deftly, he spread the towel out on the floor and sat Sans on top of it, with a vague hope to keep the mess to a minimum.

“Arms up,” he prompted, helping Sans out of his sweat-drenched shirt and setting it aside, leaving the little skeleton completely bare.  “I’m going to try something.  Let me know if it hurts _the second_ I start hurting you, ok?”

Sans nodded shakily, then groaned tightly as his brother slipped his fingers between his upper-most ribs.  Papyrus stopped immediately, and Sans whined, fingers scrabbling at his brother’s hands as he tried to piece together enough words to beg him to continue.

“Did that hurt?” Papyrus demanded.

“N-no, please keep going, PLEASE don’t stop-”

Papyrus scowled.  “Change of plans, I can’t fucking tell when I’m hurting you or not from the noises you make. Use the colour codes if you want me to stop, got it?”

“Y-yes.”

“That’s not a fucking-“

“GREEN!” Sans howled, frustrated tears running down his face.  “FUCKING GREEN, JUST FUCK ME ALREADY PLEASE!”

“Much better,” Papyrus purred, running his fingers along his brother’s ribs.  “And don’t tempt me, runt.  You can’t even stand to be touched right now, and I doubt that actual fucking is going to feel much better.”

Sans whined softly, eyesockets closing as he leaned forward and clasped both hands over Papyrus’ elbows.  Fingers shaking, he tried to draw his brother’s hands deeper into his rib cage, hips twitching a little against the air.  Papyrus winced as Sans’ sharpened fingertips dug into the space between his radius and ulna, then grimaced as the light scratches burned in a not-entirely unpleasant way.  It would be so easy to let go and completely wreck the smaller skeleton.  His entire body was crying out for contact so intensely that it almost felt like he was in heat himself, and Sans’ aroma was driving him _insane-_

“Knock it off, you’re getting in the way,” Papyrus scowled, gently pushing the little skeleton away.  Firmly, he pinned his brother’s wrists behind his back and tied them together with an old scarf..  There. He would have time for his own needs soon enough, but right now he needed to concentrate.

“Boss,” Sans whined, enduring the light restraint without struggle as he looked up at the other skeleton pleadingly.  “Please, don’t…don’t tease me, I can’t-haahhhh…fuck-“

“I am not teasing you, you ungrateful whelp,” Papyrus snapped, motions gentle as he experimentally stroked over Sans’ clavicles, the top of his sternum, and the spaces between his ribs.  “Pipe down and stop distracting me.  It’s YOUR fault you let things go for this long.”

Sans moaned in reply, then gasped when Papyrus’ fingers brushed lightly over the inside of his rib-cage.  “There,” he keened, arching back to give Papyrus better access.

“Here?”  Papyrus’s began teasing at the places where Sans’ ribs joined his sternum.  

“Lower, floating ribs” Sans gasped, fingers twitching impotently as Papyrus stroked along the underside of his breastbone.  “There, just th-THERE…” he broke off with a sharp inhale as Papyrus began rubbing his floating ribs and the underside of his sternum with firm, even strokes.  His spine was almost uncomfortably arched to give Papyrus as much access as possible, and he was shaking from the effort of holding the position, but it felt so fucking _good_.  A part of his mind was incredulous that his body was actually capable of being this sensitive, this _alive_ , but most of him was focused on the supple leather slipping so easily across his ribs and spine…

Sans tensed with a harsh gasp, jerking against Papyrus’ fingers as heat rippled through his rib cage and dissipated, leaving him feeling deeply relieved and infinitely cooler than before.  Breathing unevenly, he slumped against his brother’s chest, riding the aftershocks of the orgasm as Papyrus continued to rub gentle circles along the front of his spine.

“How do you feel now?”

“B-better, I’m better,” Sans managed, teeth parting as his pussy throbbed between his legs.  “G-green, please keep going, please-”

“Very well.”

Sans cried out as two phalanges pushed between the engorged folds of his entrance and slipped inside, wasting no time before they began curling against his inner walls.  The insistent stretch stung lightly, prompting him to spread his legs and lean heavily against Papyrus’ chest for support as his legs began to tremble too hard to keep him upright.

“Do you know how hard it is to wait this long?” Papyrus growled, teeth scraping lightly along Sans’ shoulder and collarbone as the fingers pumped into him. “When you smell like a wet dream and everything about you is screaming ‘fuck me?’  You and your goddamn heats...”

Sans writhed under his brother’s grip, unable to pull his wrists free, eyelights dilating as the pressure and slow friction against his inner walls threatened to push him into an orgasm then and there.  As though realizing how close he was, Papyrus abruptly pulled his hand away, then jerked the little skeleton into his lap, forcing him to straddle his legs in a wide, open spread.  Sans blearily looked down, eyelights fuzzing when he saw Papyrus’ scarlet cock already fully engorged and pressed against his dripping opening.  He keened as Papyrus slowly pulled him down, slipping inside the smaller skeleton with ease. 

“Ahhh-” Sans moaned eyelights fuzzing around the edges as he watched his magic stretch around the much larger skeleton’s width and length.  Papyrus’ shaft filled him to the point of discomfort, but the ache was more than overwhelmed by the warmth and gloriously satisfying pressure.  

Papyrus only gave him seconds to adjust before setting a punishing pace that left his knees and femurs quivering, unable to suppress the small cries that escaped his teeth with each forceful thrust.  It only took seconds for Sans to come, pussy fluttering around Papyrus’ cock even as the other skeleton mercilessly continued.  The the sharp aftershocks and light burn from his oversensitive pelvic girdle left Sans’ entire body feeling light, distant, and uncomfortable for a surprisingly short time before the stimulation began pushing him into another peak.  He came two more times as Papyrus continued to pound into him before the other skeleton finally reached his own climax, pulling Sans close as his erection softened and scarlet cum dripped down the insides of his femurs.

“Sans?” Papyrus asked after a moment, cupping the little skeleton’s face in both hands.

“Green,” Sans slurred, feeling drunk on pleasure and deeply satisfied.  “’M green, ‘m doing good...”

“Very well, then let’s get something on those burns and get you fed.  I don’t need you crashing on me.”

“You got it boss…” Sans murmured, allowing himself to be draped over Papyrus’ shoulder as the other skeleton carried him into the bathroom and set him on the counter.

“And if you ever do anything like this again, I will lock you in a chastity belt and tie you up with a block of ice between your legs,” Papyrus added calmly, wetting a washcloth and handing it to Sans.

“Damn, now you’re jus’ trying to turn me on,” Sans chuckled, then sucked in a breath as he pressed the damp cloth to his burned hip joints.

“Try me runt,” Papyrus said darkly, handing him a bottle of burn-jell.  “Are you ok to be on your own while I get us some food?”

Sans nodded and Papyrus headed to the kitchen, using the moment alone to take a deep, steadying breath.  He didn’t really feel like eating and dinner was definitely cold, but goddammit Papyrus had put a lot of work into it and they were both going to need their strength for the very, VERY long night ahead.  


	8. Basilisk Pap and Classic Lamia Sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> For a prompt; Sans Lamia meeting a Papyrus Basilisk?  
> _________________________________________________________  
> Oh wow, interesting first prompt! Using the mythical definition of a basilisk as an extremely venomous snake, and the headcannon that this can be a lamia subspecies…
> 
> No warnings, only cuteness and fluff

Sans hummed contentedly to himself, one eyesocket half open as he basked in the dappled sunlight beneath a mangrove tree.  The forest was alive with the sounds of small animals skittering through the underbrush, chirping and squeaking as they went about the daily task of finding food, shelter, and safety from larger predators.  

Sans blinked, then slowly cocked his head to one side as the background noise slowly began to fade.  Something was coming, and it was _big._   

“Nnn,” he churred anxiously, quickly slithering over to the trunk of the tree he was resting under.  Dropping his arms to his sides, he wrapped his tail around the trunk and scrambled upward, wrapping his fingers around a slender branch once he reached a good resting point.  Keeping quiet and still, he eyed the path below, anxiety mounting as the forest became eerily silent.

The first sign was the grass turning yellow, then black as something slithered below.  A few unlucky mice staggered away, only to fall dead a few feet outside the blighted zone.

“Mnngh…” Papyrus muttered to himself, lifting a skeletal head and upper body out of the grass and flicking a long, forked tongue over the place where Sans had been basking.  His eyes were glowing a soft orange, and his stance was that of a lamia hunting for food.  Sans held very still, excited and a little confused by the sight of one of the People.  It had been so long, and he’d been so lonely…

“Ahn?” he chirped, draping his tail lazily over the branch.

“Mmmm?” the basilisk lamia responded, looking between Sans and the tree.  After a moment, he backed off to a respectful distance and extinguished his eyelights.  The grass stopped turning black around him, and the little forest sounds began to come back.    “Mmm-hmmm.”

Sans slowly slithered out of the tree and crept sideways, keeping a constant watch on the newcomer.  Without breaking eye contact, he picked up one of the dead mice, opened his mouth, and swallowed it whole.

“Ahn?” Papyrus asked anxiously, dropping to his elbows and tentatively flicking his tongue in Sans’ direction.  Maybe if he was extra polite, then this new lamia would be his friend.  He wanted friends so badly…

“Hmmm,” Sans replied happily, picking up another mouse and swallowing it down.  The taste of the newcomer’s venom was…indescribable, but food was food and he hadn’t even had to _work_ for it.  “Mmm?”

Carefully, Sans picked up the last few mice, moved a little closer to the newcomer, and very deliberately placed them in a small pile before backing off a few paces.  Papyrus looked almost overwhelmed by the offer, fingers shaking a little from excitement as he accepted his own, pre-killed mice and swallowed them down.

“Ahn,” Sans chirped, slithering a little closer to the other and lifting his head with a friendly tongue-flick.

“Eeeee!” Papyrus squeaked, abandoning self-restraint to lunge forward and wrap the other lamia in a tight hug.  Sans’ eyesockets widened for a moment in surprise, then he churred contentedly and hugged his new pride-mate back.


	9. New Kinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Is there any chance you could write a drabble for some spicybbq or some honeybbq? Since most ppl headcanon sf pap as submissive, I think it would be interesting if he was trying to ease an inexperienced partner into kink. Tho, anything spicybbq or honeybbq would be really cool n_n  
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
> YASSSSS, FIRST TIMES AND LOVELY FELL PAPCEST!! Picked Edge because I usually do him as a dom, if we’re rocking role-reversal then we might as well go all in ^_^
> 
> Bondage/BDSM themes and Edge being a brat below

Slim gently wrapped the scarf around Edge’s ankles, grinning a little to himself as the other skeleton squirmed against the bonds.

“Too much?” he asked, trying very hard to keep the amusement and growing excitement out of his voice.

“Too LOOSE, this just tickles,” Edge grumbled, then inhaled sharply when Slim abruptly pulled the scarf taut and pinned his ankles against the chair legs with a firm snap.

“Better?” Slim purred, letting his fingers trace upward along Edge’s tibias under the pretense of checking the other scarves binding his double to a well-padded chair.

“Not if you’re going to keep teasing me all goddamn night,” Edge groused, holding himself rigidly in place as shivers ran down his femurs and along his spine.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Slim purred, giving Edge a long look as he slowly ran his tongue over his teeth.  The other skeleton blushed, but didn’t break eye contact, and Slim grinned broadly.  He’d been little concerned when they started that he would do something wrong, or that Edge wouldn’t like it.  He was still prepared to stop immediately if the other skeleton wanted him to, but he was a little surprised by how fun it was to be the one in control for once.

“Well?  Are you…comfortable?” Slim murmured, resting his chin very gently over the glowing bulge in Edge’s pants.  The other skeleton made an odd choked sound, hands tightening around the scarf binding his wrists to the back of the chair as his double deliberately nuzzled the front of his pants and ran long, skillful fingertips along the tops of his bare feet.

“Y-yes,” Edge choked, looking like he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or needy as his knees unconsciously fell open. 

“Good boy.”


	10. HoneyPuppy Noncon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Beoteono's latest PuppyHoney comic made me super thirsty (I can't link it in your asks, but it's at their tumblr), so...Swapfell!Pap/Swap!Pap? Noncon/dubcon? Aggressive molesting and oral fixations? Puppy being a gross, dirty boy? Stretch being belligerent and only grudgingly compliant because he has no other choice?  
> __________________________________________  
> HNGHHHH, Anon, you’re speaking my language on SO many levels right now…
> 
> Based heavily on @beoteono’s hentai snippets mentioned above ^_^
> 
> Warnings include non-con, non-consensual bondage, and Slim being a creep

“Ughhhh…” Stretch groaned, wincing as a sharp ache shot down the length of his spine.  Taking a shallow breath, he lay still without opening his eyes, carefully taking stock of himself.  Damn…felt like he’d gone on three, back-to-back training runs with Blue right before challenging Snowdin’s canine unit to a five-on-one sparring match.  And losing.  What the hell happened?  The last thing he remembered was was walking into the basement, and then there’d been a flash of light…

“The machine-” Stretch gasped, eyesockets flying open as he sat bolt upright.  Something snapped tight around his wrists with a metallic clank, yanking him back with a surprised yelp.

“What the…” Stretch jerked on his hands, eyelights shrinking to pinpricks as he took in the steel cuffs encasing his wrists, and the chains attached to them holding him supine against a bare mattress.

“Fuck no,” he whispered, following the chain back to an alarmingly sturdy-looking headboard.  Numbly, he stared at the bolt where the final link attached, then looked back at the cuff.  Whoever had chained him up knew what they were doing.  The cuffs had a heavy pin through their center that speared the gap between his radius and ulna, making the restraint impossible to take off without breaking his hand.  He might be able to shortcut away, but it was very possible that doing so would rip  his arms out of their sockets and leave him incapacitated.

“Comfortable?”

Stretch flinched as something stroked his tibia and instinctively jerked his leg away.  Hard fingers wrapped themselves around his ankle, keeping him from moving or kicking out.

“What the-holy fuck, get off me!” Stretch spluttered, looking down with growing alarm.  A slender, scarred skeleton was sitting between his legs, stroking his ankle and watching him through hooded eyes.

“Stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself,” the other skeleton said, voice soft and gravely as he released Stretch’s ankle and gently ran his fingertips between the tibia and fibula in a way that might have been nice if Stretch wasn’t _chained to the fucking bed_.

“Hurt myself?!” Stretch repeated incredulously.  Yep, that was about enough of that, leg-petting was where he very firmly drew the fucking line.  Half-panicking, he reached for his magic-

“That’s not how this is going to work,” Slim interrupted his captive, right before electricity ripped through the cuffs and slammed through Stretch’s body.

”AAAGHHHH!” Stretch screamed, spine arching for an agonizingly long moment before he collapsed, chest heaving and wrists stinging where the metal had dug into the bone.

”I warned you,” Slim purred as his captive groaned and glared up at him.

”Go fuck yourself,” Stretch spat, limbs shaking as he tried to wiggle out from under the other skeleton.  Slim grinned, then slipped a knee between his captive’s legs.  Slim inhaled sharply, immediately falling still.  

“I’d rather fuck you,” Slim replied, running a long, violet tongue over his pointed teeth.  Stretch shrank back, glaring as the other skeleton leered down at him.

“No thanks, I make it a point to avoid freaks who chain me up and mMMGNH?!” Stretch spluttered as the other skeleton reached forward and slipped three phalanges into his mouth, running the fingertips against the floor of his jaw.  Stretch choked, tongue automatically manifesting to push out the intrusion as his mouth was coated with the taste of sickly-sweet spice and tobacco ash.

”What a good boy you’re being,” Slim purred, withdrawing his fingers and coyly placing them on his own tongue.  Stretch heaved, not entirely trusting himself not to throw up as the stress and invasive touches made his stomach churn.  “But that expression…”

”Hnngh-” Stretch choked, burying his face against his upstretched arm as Slim ground his knee against his pelvic inlet in a way that sent sickening heat fluttering across his pelvic girdle.

”Let’s see if you still look that way when you come.”


	11. Water-Folk (LAU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> I saw the amazing basilisk fic and wondered and wondered what other subspecies do you think there are? And would you be willing to write another thing on it like UT sans running into another dangerous Lamia? 
> 
> Ravvi replied:
> 
> I was just going to be boring and do some mermaids or something, but then I ran across this fascinating South American creature called Boiúna, or Black Snake. The more traditional myths say that they’re massive snakes that live in the deepest parts of the Amazon river and protect it from fishermen who come to fish there. Newer interpretations claim that they’re shapeshifters who can take the form of various types of boats, and women. In either interpretation, they’re very powerful beings, sometimes even able to bend reality itself. 
> 
> Needless to say, I took a lot of liberties with the original material but COME ON, I had to get out the Portuguese translator for some of those stories, this was NOT an easy critter to research XD

The water rippled, and a shimmer of iridescent, black scales flashed above the water.  Sans sat quietly at the edge of the river, tail pulled into a tight coil and arms tucked into his sides.  It was damp and cool here.  Not his ideal spot, but the water-folk preferred it this way.

“Mmmm?” Papyrus hummed, leaning out over the water.

“Nnnn-” Sans warned him, blinking slowly as he watched the rippling scales move closer.  The river looked calm here, but the current was fast and strong.  

“Nnnn,” came a mocking burble from the river.  A cheeky, round-eyed face appeared just below the water, slowly tilting its head as it looked up at Papyrus through the glassy surface.

“Ahn?” Papyrus asked cheerfully, turning his head to the side as well.  A jet of water sprayed him in the face and he jerked back with an indignant squeal, rubbing his dripping eyesockets with both hands.

“Ooohhhhh…”

Slowly, a jet-black lamia crawled out of the water, eyesockets fixed on Papyrus’ face.  Water dripped from it’s bones and slid off it’s tail, making the scales shimmer like tiny, faceted gemstones.  Papyrus stared at it, seeming transfixed

“Ghhhhh,” Sans rumbled warningly as the water-folk flicked its tongue close to Papyrus’ cheek.  They turned and grinned at him, then slipped back into the water and resurfaced nearby.

“Ahn?” they asked expectantly.

Sans uncoiled and carefully gathered up his offering.  Two mice, a lizard, and a small, white bird.  “Hmmmm.”

“Mmm,” the water-folk replied, looking hungrily at the items.  They returned a second later with two spiny fish, and a small handful of minnows, which they carefully placed in a small, bowl-shaped rock near the water’s edge.  Sans considered the offering for a moment, then handed the bird to Papyrus and offered the rest to the water-folk. “Ahn.”

“Mnnnnn,” they whined, looking hungrily at the bird.  They disappeared and returned with a small eel and added it to the pile.  Sans hummed, then took the bird back and placed the animals into bowl as well.  The water-folk made a small, contented noise, then took its half of the trade and disappeared with a small chuckle.

“Ah,” Sans chirped happily, gathering up the fish and motioning Papyrus away from the water.  Papyrus gave the river one, final glare, then followed his pridemate back to a sunnier area where they could enjoy their fish dinner.


	12. Make Me Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ended up going to this class I found in my area on impact play a while ago and realized that...I’d never actually seen someone write a full, consensual impact-play scene before? Decided to write one myself. With Cherryblossom, because why not XD Feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong, I’m hardly an expert after going to one class and doing a couple of google searches.
> 
> Content includes non-sexual BDSM elements, light bondage, consensual spanking, crying, hurt comfort, aftercare, and cathartic impact play, and a teeny hint of marking

“How does that feel?”

Papyrus watched critically as Red flexed his hands, lightly testing the rope binding his forearms together behind his back.  

“Feels fine,” Red replied dully, voice a little muffled by the mattress.

“And your position? Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine you big creampuff. Trust me, I’m not gonna last long anyway,” Red grumbled with a hint of fond exasperation.

“I see.  And are you certain you wouldn’t be more comfortable if I did this?” Papyrus asked drily, spreading his knees a little further apart. Red stiffened, then relaxed as Papyrus gently pushed his body down until his hips were across one femur, and his manubrium was across the other.  The adjustment left Red’s prone form squarely across Papyrus’ knees, with his forehead pressed into the mattress and pelvis slightly lifted into the air.

“Huh.  Yeah actually, that does feel better.  Less like my ribs are gettin’ squashed,” Red replied, sounding a little surprised.

“Good.”

_SMACK_

Red squeaked and Papyrus snickered, giving the area a little rub.

“You enjoy this way too mu-UCH-” Red grunted as Papyrus smacked him again.  Papyrus grinned, but didn’t reply, focusing on making sure the strike landed across Red’s left ilium with the force aimed upward toward his spine.  He waited a second, then smacked the other side, setting a slow, even rhythm that would be predictable and easy to adjust to.  Red groaned softly and his breathing slowed, making no effort to resist or defend himself against the slow, even blows.  It almost looked like he was falling asleep.

Now that wouldn’t do at all.

Papyrus made the next strike much harder than the others, and aimed the force downward toward Red’s feet. Red flinched, head lifting a little off the mattress and knees pulling inward toward Papyrus’ femurs uncertainly.

“No falling asleep on me now, are you?”  Papyrus purred, running the tips of his fingers over Red’s flushed ilium until the little skeleton relaxed again.  “Unless you want that kind of spanking instead?  It’s not too late to decide otherwise, you know.  I don’t mind.” 

It wasn’t an idle question.  A part of him did hope that Red would prefer the slow, endorphin-filled spanking session that he had largely mastered in the past few months.  He knew the safest places to hit, the way Red would look when he was getting high off the increasing pain, and how to time his strikes so that Red would have sufficient time to fully process each calculated blow. It was a known quantity.

But the idea of this new kind of spanking that Red had described earlier was, (somewhat guiltily) extremely enticing.  It appealed to that dark part of himself that _wanted_ to make his partners helpless.  That reveled in drawing pain from their bodies, then soothing it with love and affirmations of how wonderful, strong, and amazing they were.  

That wanted to break them down, until they were utterly vulnerable before his infinite and plentiful mercy.  And then build them into something stronger.

“Nah, I’m good.  Go for it,” Red said, wiggling his rear end playfully.  “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Very well,” Papyrus said with an uncharacteristically dark grin.

He landed three, sharp smacks on Red’s upper femur, all in the same place.  Red grunted and curled up again, hands flexing a little behind his back.  Papyrus waited until he’d relaxed, then smacked his right ilium, switched, then returned to the first.  He leaned into each strike, making them too hard and fast to process.  Unlike his earlier strategy, this would be impossible to adjust to, and it definitely wouldn’t feel good.

But that was the point.

A few seconds later, Red’s grunts turned into screams, face scrunched up with pain and cheekbones flushed scarlet.  Tears had gathered in the corners of his eyesockets, and his voice was starting to sound a little hoarse.  Papyrus watched him carefully, never taking his eyes off of Red’s backside. His bones were bright crimson now, and the impacts of Papyrus’ fingers were visible across the bone.  The sight was deeply appealing and addictive in the strangest way...    

“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” Red finally sobbed, repeating the word over and over even though Papyrus had immediately complied on the first iteration.  

“Shhh, I stopped, it’s ok,” Papyrus murmured wrapping him into a tight hug.  “No more.  It’s over, you did so well…”

Red leaned into him with a loud, messy wail, sobbing so hard that his entire body shook. Papyrus placed a small kiss on the top of his head and let him cry, murmuring over and over how strong he was, how brave. He stayed there, gently rocking him back and forth until even his last, hiccupped sighs had faded, providing nothing but the occasional kiss on the top of the head and his own, comforting presence.

“How are you doing?” Papyrus finally asked, gently running his fingertips along Red’s vertebrae.

“’m good,” Red mumbled.  His voice was thick from crying, but calm, relaxed, and sleepy.

“Will you be ok if I untie you?” Papyrus asked, giving the rope still holding Red’s arms behind his back a little tug.  Red nodded, and without pulling out of the hug, Papyrus loosened the knots, then helped Red stretch his arms and tossed the rope toward the laundry bin.  It missed spectacularly, but Papyrus forced himself to ignore it.  There would be time for that later.

“Do you need anything? Something to drink?” Papyrus asked him after another quiet moment.  Red hesitated, then shook his head.

“In a bit, maybe?  Can I just…”

He hugged Papyrus a little tighter and Papyrus hugged him back with a broad smile.

“Of course.  For as long as you need,” Papyrus murmured, leaning back against the headboard and running a hand soothingly along Red’s occipital bones.

“Thanks,” Red mumbled, snuggling a little deeper into Paps shirt with a small, relieved sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @itsladykit, I hold you personally responsible for making me ship these two with Papyrus as the dom, you wonderful person you...


	13. NSFW Sneaking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for sin-cognito over on Tumblr who wanted a Cherryberry, dubcon-turned-consensual scenario! Warnings for this one include dubcon, unsolicited touching/groping/frottage, body worship, and light praise kink.

“Can I take it off?”

Red’s tone was coy and teasing, making Blue wonder whether he was missing something.  It was just a glove, but the look Red was giving him after asking to remove it was both amusing and slightly alarming.

“I suppose…?” Blue said, watching bemusedly as Red very slowly slipped the blue leather off of his hand.

“You’ve got gorgeous bones,” Red murmured, tracing Blue’s knuckles with reverent gentleness.  Blue shivered as his fingertips slipped between his carpals, spreading them out and stroking lightly at the sensitive spaces where his bones naturally pressed together.  “So smooth and white.  Not like me.  I’m all scars and stains.”

He chuckled good-naturedly at the mild put-down, but Blue scowled at him.  “Your bones are very nice as well,” he insisted, feeling oddly distracted as Red’s fingers slowly began to trace their way over his wrist with careful attention to each, small bone in between.  “They show you survived!”

“Hell yeah they do,” Red agreed, fingertips teasing at the hem of Blue’s shirtsleeve.  “But there’s just something about seeing you…”

His fingers slipped inside Blue’s sleeve and Blue tensed, suddenly a little unsure.  Red’s slow, light touches were…distracting and…and they actually felt quite nice…but…?

“I can tell you take good care of yourself.  That you’ve got people who care about you.”

Red pushed gently against his shoulder.  Blue hesitated, then half-consciously shifted on the couch to give him better access.  Red’s fingertips dipped obligingly underneath the scapula to rub along the ribs that were normally covered, just hard enough to make the bones tingle warmly.

“Ohhh…that’s nice,” Blue mumbled, letting his eyelids droop.

“It is?  You must be pretty sensitive.  How’s this feel?” Red murmured.

“Mmmm…kinda tingly,” Blue sighed, then flinched a little when he felt Red wrap an arm around his hips and pull him backward until he was all but sitting in his lap. 

“What- ohhhh…” he groaned, curling forward as Red pushed his shirt upward and began to work his way down his thoracic vertebrae, lightly spreading each joint and curling his fingers firmly around the disks and intercostal spaces.  “That’s also…that feels REALLY nice.  How…did you learn…?”

“Practice.  Good for getting those kinks out after a hard day,” Red snickered, then wrapped both hands around one of Blue’s lumbar vertebrae and pressed his thumbs under the lateral processes.  Blue groaned, eyesockets fluttering closed as Red varied the pressure, gently stretching the vertebral joint with slow, pulsing squeezes.  “You barely need it though. Your disks are perfect.”

Red’s hands had reached Blue’s last vertebrae and Blue dazedly expected them to stop there.  Instead, Red continued moving downward, running his thumbs teasingly along the sacroiliac joint.  Blue's hips jerked into the touch and he squeaked, suddenly sharply aware of how close Red’s fingers were to his pelvic inlet.

“Bet you’ve got a gorgeous sacrum,” Red sighed, then pulled him a little closer and rolled his hips forward against his tailbone.  “The rest of you is so goddamn perfect,”

“U-um…” Blue stuttered, still feeling a bit lightheaded as Red’s hands curled around the front of his pelvis and began running lightly along his inner femurs.  Was this ok?  He wasn’t…

Red’s fingers lightly began to stroke along the rim of his pelvic inlet over his pants.  Blue unconsciously jerked into the sensation, face heating as Red placed a small kiss against the back of his neck. 

“Can I take it off?”

Before Blue could respond or fully process what he was asking for, Red was already pushing his pants aside, fingertips curling hungrily over his sacrum and iliac crests and pulling him back in a slow, grinding motion that felt shockingly good against the bared bone.  Some part of Blue’s mind finally realized that Red must be after sex, and he was almost mad at himself for letting things get this far.

Even though Red was being so, _very_ nice…

“Good boy,” Red purred as light cyan magic began to slick the inside of Blue’s pelvic inlet.  “Oh my god, you’re perfect all over…”

Blue still wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to ask for this to stop as Red’s fingers continued their careful, skilled work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't end up putting much of a setting in here, but I'd imagine they're in Blue and Stretch's house on the couch. Red had better hope that Stretch is VERY busy elsewhere XD
> 
> Curious about commissions? More info [here.](https://ravvi-k.tumblr.com/post/167932441348/supportcommission)


	14. Out of Your Depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous:  
> Not sure if I can request something but can you do a cum inflation /non con edgeberry fic
> 
> Ravvi:
> 
> Sure! Lol, had way too much fun with this one, hope you like it ^_^
> 
> Warnings include the aforementioned non-con and cum inflation with additional bone-breaking, lots of biting, some sexual slavery/skele-sex pet implications, and a siren/mermaid Edge going after Blue with claspers/shark equipment.

Blue slammed an iron harpoon into the deckplate overhead, fighting against the exhausting resistance and chill of the salt water that had fully inundated the tramp steamer.  No one else was in the cargo hold with him.  At least, not this part of it.  The second the ship’s ‘evacuate’ alarms had screamed to life, he’d rushed to help his fellow immigrants escape onto the lifeboats.  He’d just rushed back into the hold for stragglers when the steamer had lurched to the side, and water had surged into the hold with enough force to slam him against the wall.  He was currently trapped inside, and the boat was sinking alarmingly fast.

“MMMMNGH!” Blue grunted, trying to stab the harpoon-tip into a gap between the deckplates.  Unlike his human friends, he couldn’t drown, couldn’t freeze to death in the near-arctic water.  Unfortunately, he also couldn’t swim, and every second the boat got deeper meant another impossible distance he needed to traverse to reach the surface but…

Blue took a second to breathe, concentrating on the heavy pull of water inside his sinuses.  It was ok.  He wasn’t about to die.  He’d take this one problem at a time, solve this puzzle, then move onto the next.  It would be ok…

Bubbles trickling from between his clenched teeth, Blue rammed the harpoon into the gap again.  This time, the tip sank deeply into the deckplates.  Encouraged, he wrenched it to the side, prying at the heavy boards.  The harpoon bowed as the deck’s pitch, batting, and nails resisted for an agonizingly long moment before separating with a rusty squeal.  Scrambling, Blue wrenched the harpoon free, slammed it into another weak spot, and pried.  The wood gave way, leaving a gap just wide enough for him to squeeze through and escape the ship.

Below him, the steamer fell away, sinking into a terrifyingly vast depth of liquid indigo.  Blue let the harpoon slip through his fingers, then kicked off his shoes and began to paddle furiously for the surface.  A few seconds later, he stripped off his pants, suspenders, and shirt as well and tried again, gasping harshly for each liquid-filled breath.  Despite himself, he felt a trickle of bitter resentment creep into his soul as his limbs weakened and his attempt at swimming only seemed to deepen his exhaustion.  Two weeks.  He’d spent two weeks on that miserable ship coming across the ocean.  He’d lived shoulder to shoulder with the other dirt-poor monsters and humans escaping persecution back in the Old country, in the stinking hold of a leaky ship filled with rats and the reek of bodily fluids.  He was starving, and his magic was achingly low.  He…

Blue forced himself to fall still, spreading out his arms and legs in hope that the extra area would slow his sinking.  No.  He could do this.  He just couldn’t just muscle his way out of it, which meant he had to think…

“GGGKKK?!” Blue started as something rough bumped into his leg.  Whipping his head around, he just managed to spot a flash of crimson disappearing into the omnipresent blue before it vanished.  Oh stars, had he scared it off?  Please tell him he’d scared it off.  Most sea creatures shouldn’t be interested in something with as little flesh and solid matter as him, but there were large, hungry, and malevolent beings lurking deep in the oceans.  Most lived miles beneath the surface, hidden from the sunlight and the human’s increasing presence, but that wouldn’t stop an Ancient one from ripping him to shreds if he was unknowingly trespassing on it’s territory.

“Not...human...”

The voice echoed through the water with a nearly inaudible undertone of clicks and whistles, sounding quietly disappointed despite the alien resonance.  Blue was still trying to process what that meant for him when something sliced into his leg and jerked him upward by the ankle.

“HHHHHHGH!” Blue screamed as he felt his fibula snap, writhing in pain.  The creature holding him made a dark, gleeful chuckle, and something sandpaper-rough ran over his damaged leg.  Terrified and shaking with adrenalized energy, Blue jerked away and whirled around, finding himself face-to-face with a saw-toothed skeleton monster.

“What…are you?”  the other skeleton murmured, licking a smear of cyan off of its teeth.  Blue stared at it numbly, eyes traveling down the red-pupiled eyesockets, to the gaudy, glittering chains and jewels threaded between its ribs and the powerful, sharklike tail below.  The tail glowed a gentle crimson, with spots of brighter scarlet along the fins and underbelly.  It swished slowly in the water, moving with predatory grace that had every one of Blue’s instincts screaming at him to run away as quickly as possible.

“What are you?”  the siren repeated, almost sounding angry.  “A surface crawler from the ship?  One of the Traitors who gave up their tails?  ARE YOU?”

The siren lunged forward and closed his teeth around Blue’s neck, biting down with a low growl.  Blue choked, feeling a surge of heat spread outward from the pierced bone as the siren slowly released him, then gently lapped at the bite mark with a rough, sandpapery tongue.  Curiosity and a deep, primal desire that wasn’t his own rippled through Blue’s soul, and the bite burned in a deeply pleasant way that couldn’t possibly be caused by the salt water.  

“No.  Not one of the traitors.  But you are from the surface, tiny and pathetic as you are,” the siren sneered, then lunged forward.  Blue squeaked and held out his arms, weakly twisting his body away as the siren pinned his wrists behind his back and nipped at the underside of his jaw, his clavicle, his left shoulder.  Each bite pulsed with heat and power, simultaneously making Blue feel weak and feverish.

  _“MINE,”_ the siren crooned, and that pulse of desire rippled through Blue’s soul again.

“Gk-” he flinched as the siren bit his exposed lumbar vertebrae, then shredded his underclothes to bare his pelvis.  With the same fervent energy, he nipped his iliac crest, then his pubic symphysis and ischium, growing rougher and more demanding with each bite.  Blue’s eyes rolled back as he rode the pain, barely aware of what he was doing as magic churned in his abdomen, eagerly pushing into the space between his legs with a needy throb.  The construct that formed was unfamiliar.  Flatter, and wider than the pussy he normally used, and thicker along the inside.  It was accompanied by a cyan belly that started just below his ribs, swelling over his pelvis and femurs before fading out at about mid-thigh.  Before he could fully process what was going on, the siren was already pushing his tail flush to Blue’s body, wiggling impatiently against the opening between his legs.

“N-no…” Blue moaned, jerking a little as something hard pressed firmly against his inner thigh.

“Yes,” the siren breathed, sinking his teeth into Blue’s shoulder.  Blue arched back, mouth opening in a soundless cry as the siren’s clasper slowly penetrated him, moving in slow, shallow thrusts that forced the appendage deeper, and deeper…

“Mmmph, mmmph, mmmph,” the siren moaned into Blue’s shoulder, sheathing himself with a full-body shudder.  Blue trembled, bones burning from the bites as the clasper inside him began to swell, growing in length and breadth until he could see it pushing up into his abdomen.  The overtight stretch burned in the best possible way, making him feel like his body was dissolving into tingling, blissful fire.

“Hnnngh-” Blue gasped as something cold spurted inside him.  The siren jerked against his belly, and Blue whimpered as an obscene amount of fluid began to pump into his abdomen, sealed in by the engorged clasper.  It seemed like hours had passed before the siren finally fell still, arms wrapped tightly around him and teeth still buried in his shoulder. 

“Hnnn,” Blue whimpered as the clasper slowly began to soften and a little of the fluid distending his belly leaked out of his burning pussy.

“G-good boy,” the siren panted, running his tongue gently along the underside of Blue’s jaw.  “Perhaps…I will keep you…”

Blue weakly pressed his knees together with a whimper as the siren gently stroked his sore, distended abdomen.


	15. Mentor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> Hi! I hope your day is going well. If you still take request, may i request classic fontcest with daddy kink and dom sans? I understand if you don't want to do it and/or if you don't have. At least i will be able to see more of your amazing works. Love you <3
> 
> Ravvi replied:  
> Sure! Decided to write this as an AU where Sans and Papyrus were separated at an early age and don’t realize they’re siblings, but still be careful for sibling incest/fontcest, prostitution, mentions of past abuse and mentions of interspecies sex. Content also includes kink negotiation, aforementioned daddy kink, praise kink, racism/racist themes between monsters and humans.

He wasn’t sure why he stayed.  For a roof over his head and enough gold to make ends meet?  It almost wasn’t worth it, even though he didn’t have anywhere else to go.  Not when the Sentient Interspecies Act had made it impossible for a monster to land a job without a human sponsor years ago.  

Maybe he stayed because this, at least didn’t lie about what it was.  Humans might prohibit themselves from prostitution, but they had no such restrictions on those of the ‘sentient interspecies’ persuasion.  At least Sans’ customers had the decency to admit that they were fucking monsterkind, whether they understood the wordplay or not.

A quiet knock on the door jolted Sans’ out of his brooding.  Muffet must have sent him another customer.  Time to put on the happy face…

“Hello…” he said cheerfully, opening the door.  He started as a much taller skeleton monster jumped back from the doorstep with a little squeak, face flushing an adorable shade of ruddy orange.  Sans blinked, temporarily thrown off guard before he collected himself and smiled gently.  “Heya.  you looking for your sponsor kiddo?”

“What?  No!  No, they don’t know I’m here,” the other skeleton said quickly with an anxious glance back down the hall.  “I just…I paid downstairs?  And the nice lady at the counter said to go to room forty two and knock so I did and…”

“Wait, you’re a customer?”  Sans asked, giving the other skeleton a surprised look.  His clothes were…eccentric, but they were clean and relatively new.  Getting a human sponsor was the practical equivalent of indentured servitude, but humans had varying degrees of moral bankruptcy.  Maybe this kid had found someone halfway decent to take him in?  Some humans even paid monsters for their time, so it wasn’t impossible for him to have paid Muffet to hire him.  Just…it had never happened before?

“Dang, sorry about that, of course you’re a customer,” Sans said, lightly slapping his own forehead.  “Come on in.  Can I get you anything?  You got a name I can call you?”

The other skeleton gingerly stepped into the room, fiddling with his pink and purple polka-dot gloves as he eyed Sans’ mattress with it’s black fitted sheet.  “Just Rus,” he said automatically, as though he’d been rehearsing the line.  “It is not my real name, but rather a diminutive version of it for the purposes of discretion.”

“Uh…sure,” Sans said, guessing that his full name was Papyrus, like his font.  “I’m Sans, and it’s nice to meet you.  Anything on your mind?”

Rus’ face, if possible, turned an even brighter shade of orange.  Sans felt himself breaking into a big, stupid grin at the sight.  Goddamn, that was cute.

“This your first time kiddo?”  he asked with a playful smile.

Rus quickly shook his head and looked away, blush fading a little as he looked at the floor.  Ah.  Not good then.  Sans’ grin shrank a little as his imagination helpfully supplied what this poor kid’s first time had probably been like.  If he’d been sponsored since he was little…

“Hey, no worries.  It doesn’t really matter,” Sans said softly.  “You uh…you want me to take the lead?“

Rus gave him a conflicted look and gave a little shrug.  “I don’t really know what to do,” he confessed, shifting his weight from foot to foot.  “I read some books about the subject, but they were all very technical and there wasn’t any information about monsters.  None that was useful, anyway.”

Sans nodded thoughtfully.  “Yeah, I bet.  All right.  You’ve got me for at least an hour, so how about this.  I’ll try a few things, keep it simple and go slow.  I’ll ask you how it feels, and you tell me whether you like it or not.  If you like it, we can keep going.  If not, we’ll try something else.  Also, if you want to stop at any time, for any reason, just say stop,” Sans gave him an appraising look. “Can you do that for me?”

Rus nodded rapidly and Sans sighed under his breath.  What the hell was he doing?  He could probably tell this poor kid to lie down and then take a nap on him.  He wouldn’t know the difference, and it would all pay the same.

“All right, come here,” he instructed, gesturing to the mattress as he pushed the negative voices aside.   “Sit down so you’re comfy.”

Rus obediently sat, looking so tense that Sans doubted he was comfortable.

“Good.  Now just keep still for me…”

Sans leaned forward and gently ran the tips of his fingers over Rus’ lovely cheekbone, brushing over his zygomatic arch and down the back of his jawbone.  Rus watched him with rapt attention, holding so still he might have turned to stone.

“Good or bad?” Sans murmured, repeating the touch on the other side.

“Gooooood,” Rus whispered, breath catching as Sans’ fingers trailed down the back of his cervical vertebrae, curling under each process to stroke at the normally protected undersides.

“Good. Can I take this off?”  he asked, fingering the collar of Rus’ shirt.  Rus nodded, and Sans gently slipped it over his head.  

“God, look at you,” Sans breathed once Rus’ chest was bare, and there was enough honesty in his voice that even he was surprised.  “You’re gorgeous kiddo.” 

Rus flushed and grinned shyly at him.  Sans grinned back.  Bit of a praise kink, huh?  He could work with that.  

“So brave and clever too.  Bet it took a lot of guts to come here and talk to Muffet, but you did it.”

“I did!” Rus said breathily as Sans gently ran his fingers over his gleaming ribs.  “It wasn’t terribly hard, but I had to find-ohhhh…I had to find a time when my sponsor-” Papyrus broke off with a little moan as Sans’ fingers slipped around the tip of his xyphoid process, then pressed a light kiss against the side of his neck.  Stars, he’d forgotten how it felt to be with another monster.  He could literally feel Rus’ tension melting into tentative trust and desire as it diffused into the room, eager intent bubbling to the surface under Sans’ gentle touch.  

“I’m glad you did,” Sans whispered, teasing at Rus’ floating ribs.  “I’m so proud of you kiddo.  You’re being such a good, brave boy for me.  Can I take these off?”

Rus nodded eagerly, and Sans slipped his shorts off of his legs.  “Good.  How does this feel?”

Rus arched into Sans’ fingers as he lightly traced the edge of his ilium, then pressed a kiss into the side of his neck.

“It’s good…good, keep going,” Rus said tightly, clearly struggling to hold still as he’d been instructed.  Sans chuckled, then leaned forward and pressed a light, unhurried kiss against Rus’ teeth.

“All right.  As long as you keep being such a good, brave boy for daddy,” Sans murmured, then deepened the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what that title is, ugh, it's late and I'm tired and it's GOOD ENOUGH! ZZZZzzzzzzz...


	16. The Curly-Cord Was Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insipred by this post by Sympharin:  
> https://ravvi-k.tumblr.com/post/178545289973/sympharin-sans-will-occasionally-transform-his
> 
> (Sans will occasionally transform his ectojunk into various non-genital things. You'll probably have to look at the link to understand the context, but it's worth it, light warnings for sibling incest/fontcest and non-standard genitalia.)

* * *

 

“Oh baby, you’ve got my number.  All you gotta do is dial it in,” Sans crooned, wiggling his hips seductively.  The cyan, rotary telephone set between his legs jiggled a little, pulling on his ilium and sacrum in a way that felt strange, but not entirely unpleasant.  The pillowy ectoflesh had taken two hours of solid concentration to sculpt, and he was immensely pleased with himself.  And unbearably horny.

“Dial it in?”  Papyrus scoffed without glancing up from his magazine.  “Your humour is as ineffective as your flirting, but at least you didn’t go for the obvious _push my buttons_ line _.”  
_

Sans gave him an overexaggerated pout and petulantly spread his legs a little wider.  “Buttons?  You wound me!  My masterpiece doesn’t have buttons!  See?”  he pointed to the front of his crotch where the face of the rotary dial sat proudly over top of his pubic symphysis.  “You've gotta turn the dial to turn me on.  Old school or no school.”

Papyrus groaned and pretended he’d suddenly gone deaf.

“Ring ring,” Sans chuckled with a helpful grin.  “I think it’s for you, should I answer it myself, or put them on h-JEEZUS!”

Sans doubled over with a choked gasp as Papyrus lunged forward and wrapped his fingers around Sans’ handset.  Unlike a real phone, it couldn’t come off the cradle, not that Sans hadn’t tried.  The magic just wasn’t stable enough to support something as thin and finicky as a cord.

“What’s the matter?  Is this the wrong number?”  Papyrus purred with a dark grin.  Before Sans could react, he stuck his finger into the dial and turned it to the pound sign.  Sans arched back with a wordless gasp as the dial twisted, then sprang back to its starting position with a sharp pinch and a rush of warm tingles.  Maybe it had been a bad idea to put the band of flesh that held the rotary dial in place right over where his clit would normally be...

“Maybe I should redial.”

“FUUUUCK!” Sans wailed, body spasming with agonized pleasure as Papyrus calmly dialed every number on the wheel.


End file.
